Volume 1. Chapter 44

The forest whispered softly under a light breeze, and the sun was rising higher, flooding the trail with gentle light. Ken and Lily decided to take a break near a small clearing. Lily pulled out some food from her magical pouch, and they settled beneath a tree, enjoying the rest after their long walk.

After a light snack, Lily carefully took out Alarayn — the very flower Ken had given her. It still shimmered with a crimson glow, its petals glistening as if woven from living fire. Lily looked at it with a tender smile, absentmindedly running her finger along its delicate stem.

Ken noticed her absorbed expression and tilted his head slightly.

“You look enchanted, Lily. What are you thinking about?” he asked with a light smile.

Lily lifted her eyes to Ken, as if returning from deep thoughts.

“This flower... Alarayn,” she began, her voice soft, filled with warmth. “Its name in the ancient tongue means ‘Crimson Heart.’ It truly is special.”

Ken raised an intrigued brow.

“What makes it special?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

Lily smiled and looked back at the flower.

“It’s very rare. It only grows in places filled with strong magic. For example, in dangerous dungeons where monsters dwell, or in ravines that nourish magical creatures. This forest...” she paused, glancing around, “apparently has some magic concentration too, if such a flower could grow here.”

“Huh,” Ken looked at the flower, then at Lily. “So I plucked something truly unique? Maybe I should’ve asked for a million gold coins in return?”

Lily laughed, her voice light and warm.

“Maybe,” she replied. “But I think this flower is worth far more than money.”

She fell silent again, her fingers trembling slightly as she touched the petals. There was something deep in her gaze, as if she wasn’t looking at the flower but into the past.

“My father,” Lily began, her voice softening, “he once obtained a flower like this too. In one of the most dangerous dungeons, where, as he said, you could lose your life with every step. He gave it to my mother... and they got married. Then I was born.”

Ken froze, listening intently. Lily continued, still looking at the flower:

“Of course, it’s not necessary to give an Alarayn to propose nowadays. But the tradition remains. It’s seen as a very romantic gesture.”

She paused for a moment, then almost inaudibly added:

“I used to dream that one day... the person I fall in love with would give me a flower like this.”

Ken watched her as she sat quietly, holding that rare flower in her hands. Her voice was filled with something warm and vulnerable, and he didn’t want to disturb the moment.

“Why this flower specifically?” he finally asked, wanting to know more.

Lily flinched, as if his question pulled her out of her reverie. She lowered the flower and began fidgeting with the edge of her bag. Her cheeks flushed slightly.

“This tradition...” she began, her voice trembling. “It has a long history. And... the legend behind it might seem silly to you. And I...” she sighed softly, “I might seem like a foolish and naive little girl.”

Ken leaned forward slightly, trying to meet her eyes.

“I won’t laugh, I promise,” he said sincerely. “And, Lily, don’t call yourself foolish or naive. You’re smart and kind. I’m still alive only because of you.”

Lily froze, her cheeks turning an even brighter red, but a grateful smile touched her lips.

“Thank you, Ken,” she said quietly. Then she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and exhaled as if gathering her thoughts.

“All right, I’ll tell you...” she began, but paused, searching for the right words.

Ken sat still, waiting for her story, while a gentle breeze carried the scent of the forest, mingled with the faint floral aroma of Alarayn.